


I'm Scared

by junipersand



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Manburg Festival, bbh is dead but hes not done yet, goddamnit who hurt the hardcore muffin, haunting the dream smp is not pog, hello ghosts, its ya boi bbh, ive come to join you, just stay with the ride please, no beta we die like tubbo, respawn mechanics are weird, thanks for the trauma poor bbh he was just tryna have a good time, yeah that event, you know when techno committed genocide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:47:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27095281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junipersand/pseuds/junipersand
Summary: BadBoyHalo whispered to Skeppy: Skeppy, I'm scared.He looked up just to see a rocket diving straight at him.Or:The first permadeath in centuries just happened to be BadBoyHalo. If you asked anyone who the killer was, they would say: Technoblade, the man who killed everybody in a festival atop a stage, laughing maniacally as he rained explosives onto the unsuspecting audience. They would blame Schlatt, who was the one that dared call upon a blood god.BadBoyHalo is an interesting man. Did you honestly think that his death would be the end of him?[The Manburg festival with a different ending.]
Comments: 38
Kudos: 327





	1. BadBoyHalo whispered to Skeppy

_BadBoyHalo whispered to Skeppy:  
Schlatt is going to ask Techno to kill Tubbo. I need to save him._

_Skeppy whispered to BadBoyHalo:  
What the heck? You can’t go up against Techno! You’ll just get yourself killed!_

_BadBoyHalo whispered to Skeppy:_  
_I know, Skeppy, but I can’t just watch!_

_Skeppy whispered to BadBoyHalo:  
Stay back for now. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Wait. Scratch that. Don’t do anything Dream wouldn’t do. I don’t know what I’m doing._

_Skeppy whispered to BadBoyHalo:  
Bad?_

_Skeppy whispered to BadBoyHalo:  
Bad? You there?_

_BadBoyHalo whispered to Skeppy:_  
_I was too late. Techno did it, but he also killed Schlatt and Quackity._

_Skeppy whispered to BadBoyHalo:_  
_Uh…_

_BadBoyHalo whispered to Skeppy:_  
_… what should I do, Skeppy? I watched a child die and I didn’t do anything about it._

_Skeppy whispered to BadBoyHalo:_  
_…_

_BadBoyHalo whispered to Skeppy:_  
_…_

_Skeppy whispered to BadBoyHalo:_  
_Bad, are you okay?_

_BadBoyHalo whispered to Skeppy:_  
_No, I’m not, Skeppy. I don’t know what’s happening anymore. This was supposed to be a festival! It was supposed to be a day where everyone would be safe._

_Skeppy whispered to BadBoyHalo:_  
_Bad, listen to me. I want you to get out of there and come home. Just turn around and forget that ever happened. Whatever’s going on there is none of our business, you hear me?_

_BadBoyHalo whispered to Skeppy:_  
_But… I can’t just—_

_Skeppy whispered to BadBoyHalo:_  
_Just do it, Bad._

_Skeppy whispered to BadBoyHalo:  
Whatever you’re seeing now is a reason why we have to win our own war. Okay? I know you’re scared, but there’s no time for you to handle this. They’ll just respawn, won’t they? Tubbo will be fine!_

_BadBoyHalo whispered to Skeppy:_  
_Okay, fine…_

_Skeppy whispered to BadBoyHalo:_  
_Good. Now get away as fast as you can. Kidnap someone’s horse or something. They have plenty of those._

_BadBoyHalo whispered to Skeppy:_  
_Wait, Techno_

_Skeppy whispered to BadBoyHalo:_  
_What about Techno?_

_Skeppy whispered to BadBoyHalo:_  
_Bad?_

_Skeppy whispered to BadBoyHalo:_  
_Bad, answer me._

_BadBoyHalo whispered to Skeppy:_  
_Skeppy, I’m scared._

**\- Connection Lost -**


	2. BadBoyHalo went off with a bang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One move changes everything. A life for another. BadBoyhalo knows that rule all too well.

It all started with Techno. It always did. So when Bad’s colorless eyes caught the form of netherite soaring through the skies, he narrowed his gaze and silently reached for the sword strapped to his back. Nothing good happened when Technoblade made an effort to show up to any festivities, especially to one that was hosted by his enemy. He knew this from experience, since he’d known the man for as long as Skeppy adored trolling.

He expected the people around him to do the same; to ready their weapons and weary gazes upon the crowned fighter, but nobody did. They glanced at Technoblade with curiosity and acceptance, as if he was already one of their own. Schlatt invited Techno to the festival, after all, why would he not obey the rules and keep the peace? Even sly Fundy stopped destroying houses and dressed himself in a fine leather suit. Though, his nature still surfaced when it came to the dunk that he created – drowning unsuspecting people as the competitors hit their target.

Their deaths meant nothing. They could always respawn. Death and gore were never permanent, so sadness and grief never mattered. Maybe that’s why none of them were in a rush to be rid of Schlatt. There were no fatal consequences that would reprimand the tyrants of their misdeeds. At most, they would lose their prized possessions or their favorite pet, but they were all recoverable.

It’s sickening, Bad thinks, to live such pitiful lives allowing someone to step all over them.

“Hello, Techno,” Bad greeted him with his kindest smile. “I heard you were invited. It’s a great honor for you to show up.” Lie. It’s the only thing he could do. If anyone here other than Antfrost knew his true reasoning for being here, they were as good as dead. Antfrost was also invited alongside Bad, and they participated together. Neither of them would be alone incase any drastic tragedies happened.

Techno grunted, putting his trident aside. Bad scanned the full netherite armor he wore with wary. Everybody present were only dressed in clothes with no armor. Only Punz was armed like Techno, but the difference in their skillsets were as exploitable as night and day. A builder was nearly defenseless against a warrior that knew no boundaries.

“I’d seen funerals with more fireworks than this party,” Techno vamped, his tone monotonous as usual. From his waist, he loaded his enchanted crossbow with something other than an arrow. “Luckily for you, I brought my own firecrackers.”

Blowing the bangs from his face, he aimed the crossbow at the ground between them—with Punz and Fundy by their sides—and pulled the trigger. Immediately as it was fired, a blast of red, blue and white sparks burst into miniature licks of flames, engulfing the group in a spray of color and fire. Surprised, Bad instinctively brought his shield to defend himself, and he was fortunate to have avoided the worst of it. Fundy and Punz, however, weren’t so lucky.

_Fundy went off with a bang due to a firework fired from [Sacrifice to Technoblade] by Technoblade_

_Punz went off with a bang due to a firework fired from [Sacrifice to Technoblade] by Technoblade_

Even if his shield absorbed most of the damage, his face was still covered with soot, his glasses blackened from ash and bits of burnt paper. Blinking air dust from his eyes, Bad slowly backed away, lowering his shield with caution. His instincts were telling him to either end the man that stood before him or run as far as he can. But if he left, Antfrost would have to follow, and both their absences would be suspicious to Schlatt. Nobody could know about their faction just yet.

Bad swallowed the bile rising from his throat, and turned to the damage. Clad in full netherite, Technoblade was completely unharmed and well, with only flecks of dust settling on his shoulder which he could easily brush off.

“That’s a powerful weapon,” Bad commented. He was trying to keep himself together. Why—why would someone bring such a dangerous tool to a festival? It’s been made quite clear that violence was banned from the festivities, so there was no need for bloodshed. But Techno was from the enemy faction and under Wilbur’s command and Wilbur wasn’t here.

 _Something bad is going to happen. I don’t know when or what, but it will happen._ Bad could only hope the others felt the same. But as Fundy called Techno over, beckoning him to volunteer as the dunking victim with glee, Bad felt the pit of his stomach falling lower and lower by the minute.

Techno glanced at the tank, unimpressed by the mechanic of the game. “Are you mocking me?” he demanded, turning to Fundy with a sullen glare. “What am I, your circus animal? Listen, buddy, from a furry to another, you are making an utter mockery of my skill.”

Bad’s eye twitched. He couldn’t tell if he was joking or not; when it came to Techno, the line between sarcasm and reality was blurred beyond comparison.

“Of course not,” Fundy debated. He reached to the top of the tank and broke the block that covered it. He turned to Techno with a mischievous look in his eyes, just barely showing on his lips. “Come on. Use that trident of yours and try to land in this tiny little hole.”

From beside Bad, Purpled snorted. “Heh. Hole.”

Bad frowned at him. “Language,” he chided absentmindedly, brushing off soot from his face. Sweat trickled down his back as he tried to remind himself that he was still in the form of a human. His reflection through the water didn’t help matters. Thanks to Eret, people with blank eyes were as normal as everybody else. It was the reason why he hadn’t need to put up his usual emerald eyes.

A splash of water brought Bad’s attention back to the scene. Techno was now submerged in the lake, pulling his trident back as he aimed for the perfect trajectory. As everybody looked, his body shot into the sky, enveloped by a personal cyclone. Techno’s shadow cast over the ground like a bird, diving straight for the small opening that was his goal. Techno failed the jump, missing by a block as netherite clashed against glass.

Techno blinked. “Wait, no, this isn’t how I thought it would turn out.”

Bad’s rubbed his eyes. He should have expected something else. This was the same man who killed Dream and outsmarted thousands in battles, but a trident-MLG has posed too much of a threat for him. This is logical. Yes, the floor is made of floor.

As if he didn’t need more of a reason to be wary of the man, Techno receded back into the waters and attempted the stunt the second time. The same thing happened again, with him flying in the skies and aiming for the hole, and he made it. Second time’s the charm.

Fundy placed a stone block over Techno’s head as soon as he landed in the tank. Bad didn’t know how long he could continue watching this. This was painful to look at. It would be fine if Techno drowned to death and they stole all his items, but it took a painful amount of time for the man to even take damage. His helmet must have been enchanted with Respiration and Aqua Infinity, because there was no way someone could survive being underwater for five minutes.

“You’re drowning him!” Niki cried, clamping her hands over her mouth.

Fundy scoffed at Niki. “Have you even seen how long this man spent grinding for gear? He probably has four of the exact same sets back home!” He crossed his arms and tapped his finger on his elbow impatiently. “Why are you taking so long to die?”

From the tank, with a garbled voice, Techno called: “Techno never dies!” he bellowed, releasing bubbles from his mouth. “Sacrifice to Technoblade, you foolish mortals!”

Fundy knocked the tank. The glass was still sturdy, for some ungodly reason. If it could handle the impact of high velocity netherite with a pig inside, they should start investing in glass armor instead. “Come on, drown already.”

Techno yawned. He casually snacked on a piece of steak. “I’m getting a little hungry here.” He finished the steak within seconds. His health was back to full, despite having no oxygen. “That’s _much_ better. Remember kids: don’t drown in a tank without packing at least some steak you cooked from the body of your enemies.”

Bad turned as soon as Fundy and Niki began yelling at each other. Antfrost was somewhere else, and he didn’t know where. At least he was still safe, wherever he may be. If anything, they might have to leave. As he said before, however, this was a festival meant to celebrate democracy—so nothing bad should happen. He’d keep that belief for now, even as Technoblade began screaming bloody water from a small pit of water.

_A few more hours, and I can go home. That’s all. Me and Skeppy are going to decorate the bunker and our base, and the day will end. That is all I need to do. Last a few more hours. I can do this._

It didn’t help that the shield he wore was painted bright red with Schlatt’s flag.

If there was anything that Bad was good at, it was zoning out at the most convenient and random times possible. He dozed off when Fundy and Techno wrestle each other to the ground in a boxing ring. (Techno definitely cheated, Bad could see the red particles dripping from Techno’s body but somehow no one else did.) His mind drifted to muffin batter when Quackity accused Tubbo of abusing drugs during their match. (Was Manburg a drug-free country? He didn’t think so.)

But what really caught his attention was when Schlatt finally arrived to greet them.

“Let me show you the power of your president,” Schlatt declared, donning enchanted diamond armor and wielding an equally enchanted bow. The arrows that grazed its string burst into magical flames, never going out as it was fired. He was talking to Fundy, who was armed with nothing and bare without protection or a shield.

Fundy took steps backwards, his head lowered and dread looming over his face. “This isn’t fair,” he pointed out, voice shaking. “I have _nothing_!” He had blocks, but they weren’t allowed to build. He was helpless against a man armed with armor and weapons.

Schlatt adjusted his armor. “I am the law.” He pulled his bow back, already aiming at Fundy. “This is fair in the lands of Manburg.”

Bad lowered his hood to hide the storm that gathered in his eyes. This was a festival that celebrated democracy, yet the host itself paraded anarchy. As Fundy’s death message blared through everyone’s eyes, it had been expected before the fight ever began.

_ItsFundy was shot by JSchlatt_

Death was a frequent occurrence here. It wasn’t what Bad was used to. In the heat of the moment, he only knew one thing:

_Schlatt must be stopped at all costs._

“THIS IS THE POWER OF YOUR PRESIDENT!” Schlatt boomed, staring at the disappearing remains of what was once a man named Fundy. His body was charred and burnt, with arrows poking from his chest. His corpse soon disappeared, and he was resurrected from the dead like they always do.

There was so much death, but they don’t feel remorse from any of it.

Bad closed his eyes.

_BadBoyHalo whispered to Skeppy: Skeppy, I think this is a bad idea._

He opened them again to see everyone shuffling from their seats. Punz, who was near him, nudged his shoulder.

“Bad, come on. The speech is starting.”

Bad gave him a small smile. “Thanks for telling me. I zoned out for a second there.” He got to his feet, walking beside his friend as they headed towards the podium.

Punz gave him a strange look. “Zoned out? Bad, did you sleep enough last night?”

“Yeah, I did. Why?”

“Dunno. You’re always so uptight and worried whenever there’s a fight going on. I mean – Schlatt obliterated Fundy, and you were in your own head?”

“Yeah.”

“Ha! I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

Bad picked at his leather armor and glanced at Punz’s netherite. Rather than attending a speech, he felt as if he were witnessing a genocide that was waiting to happen. “There’s always is,” he agreed amiably, picking a seat at the very edge. Punz left his side and went to sit behind Techno. Presumably because he had the best armor amongst all of them and if Techno ever went amok, he would be the first line of defense.

He would’ve kept this line of thought if he didn’t catch Punz silently celebrating that he managed to snag a seat the closest to _the_ Technoblade. Bad sighed. He was overthinking again.

Someone brushed past his seat, their hands folded on their chest and back slouched. Bad only caught a glance of brown hair, but it was enough for him to recognize the person. Bad rose from his seat and lurched forward, grabbing Tubbo by the shoulder. The young teen yelped in surprise, turning to the adult.

“Ahh. Is there anything you need, Mister BadBoyHalo?” Tubbo asked, shaken up.

Bad shook his head. “I have a bad feeling about this event,” he said. “Maybe I’m being paranoid, but I want you to take this.” He produced a piece of gold from his coat and slid it into the teen’s pockets. “Don’t take it out and you don’t have to return it to me. Whatever you do, stay safe and don’t let anyone know about it.”

Tubbo stared at him as if he were insane, but he wiped the sweat from his neck and nodded firmly. “Thank you, Mister BadBoyHalo!”

From the front, Schlat called: “Tubbo, hurry up! We ain’t got all day!”

Tubbo scurried after him as Bad retreated to his seat. Callahan was next to him, his arms crossed and yawning into his palm. Everyone else was so relaxed. Other than Niki, of course. It was difficult to imagine that Schlatt would raise her taxes just because she’d been associated with Wilbur. He wondered how she was holding up. But did no one see anything wrong with this? Why was everyone so calm and nobody worried? Why was he the only one dreding what’s about to happen?

In the corner of Bad’s eyes, he caught Schlatt still staring at him, his expression dark as if he wished BadBoyhalo were dead.

An echoing hum boomed through the air, and a deep voice soon followed: “Welcome, everyone, to the festival of Manburg!” On the podium that led to the skies, stood the very president that BadBoyHalo had dreaded to see. By his side was his secretary and his vice president, both looking rather nervous and

Bad straightened his back and whipped his head to the front.

_Skeppy whispered to BadBoyHalo: Bruh._

_Skeppy whispered to BadBoyHalo: You were the one that wanted to go._

Bad looked down to his knees. His ears rang and his head swam in a bog. His eyes felt as if they were going to pop out from their sockets.

_BadBoyHalo whispered to Skeppy: Something’s wrong. I can feel it._

“Today, we are gathered here to celebrate democracy—”

_Skeppy whispered to BadBoyHalo: Then leave. That festival sucks anyway. Ant’s already there so why do you need to be with him? Do you like him more than me now?_

“—for the freedom of our people and government—”

_BadBoyHalo whispered to Skeppy: Skeppy, this is serious. Something is going to happen._

“—to lead Manburg to a better future.”

_Skeppy whispered to BadBoyHalo: You can handle it, right?_

“Now, a speech from my secretary—Tubbo.”

Bad whipped his head to the front. For the first time in his life, he prayed that his instincts were wrong.

Whatever Tubbo was saying didn’t matter. Bad felt like his world was underwater and he could hear nothing but gurgles and deafening silence. He was speaking, but all he heard was void.

He was sick to his stomach but he didn’t know why.

But as Schlatt and Quackity began surrounding the child in a box of concrete, he soon found his answer. _Tubbo in a box, what will he do?_ Nothing; he’s helpless.

“Well, Technoblade, would you like to come up and give a speech?”

_BadBoyHalo whispered to Skeppy: Schlatt is going to ask Techno to kill Tubbo. I need to save him._

“Take him out, Technoblade.”

“Take him out… for dinner? That’s not very legal of me, Schlatt. You see, Tubbo is a minor, and I am very much not—”

Fear coursed through Bad’s entire body. Only now the others saw the severity in the situation and watched on with horror. This was the disaster his mind was preparing him for. He had known something like this was going to happen from the very beginning.

“I’m sorry, Tubbo. I—I’ll make this as quick and painless as possible.”

The podium burst into a horrific spectacle of colors.

Before Bad knew it, he was on his feet, eyes glued on the stage that was now littered with nothing more than corpses and burning streamers. He thought it would be over, but it wasn’t. Because Techno, now pointing his armed crossbow at them, his usual dull expression lit up with a maniacal light that belonged to a madman.

The first burst of fireworks erupted right next to him. Was anyone screaming? Or were they stricken still with fear, just like him?

_Callahan went off with a bang due to a firework fired from [Sacrifice to Technoblade] by Technoblade_

And another.

_Niki went off with a bang due to a firework fired from [Sacrifice to Technoblade] by Technoblade  
Purpled went off with a bang due to a firework fired from [Sacrifice to Technoblade] by Technoblade_

And another.

 _Antfrost went off with a bang due to a firework fired from [Sacrifice to Technoblade] by Technoblade_  
Ponk went off with a bang due to a firework fired from [Sacrifice to Technoblade] by Technoblade   
Fundy went off with a bang due to a firework fired from [Sacrifice to Technoblade] by Technoblade 

_BadBoyHalo whispered to Skeppy: Skeppy, I’m scared._

He looked up just to see a rocket diving straight at him.

_BadBoyHalo went off with a bang due to a firework fired from [Sacrifice to Technoblade] by Technoblade_


	3. The First Permadeath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A life for another. Was the trade-off worth it?

Ant grunted. His mind felt as if there were alarms pounding within his skull.

For the first few moments, there was no sound. The only thing he heard was the ring in his ears, like a high-pitched wail from the people that screamed for retribution. That demanded justice for their tragedies. There couldn’t be a better description – his clammy palms rested on the charred floor for support, ash and shards chipped into his skin like miniature knives.

Despite being freshly respawned, Ant’s entire body rocked with soreness and dread. Around him were the others that suffered the same fate as him. He turned to the nearest sign of life a good distance from him: Purpled, who was killed first and respawned earlier than him. The teen groaned, still lying on his stomach as he flipped himself over, his expression scrunched in discomfort.

Punz, the only one who survived the attack, ran around and distributed golden apples. They may be at full health, but healing always helped with post-respawn fatigue and nausea.

“This is why I hate the Dream SMP,” Purpled wheezed, draping his hand over his eyes. “I’m just going to stick with the Sky Pirates. This place sucks.”

Ant shook his head to shake dust from his hair.

The festival was ruined entirely. Technoblade, the main perpetrator, was nowhere to be seen. The decorations that Tubbo worked so hard on were completely destroyed, not one surface left untouched. There were still fires eating away at the banners that hung around the stage and cinders that burned at stalls. Charred flags littered the ground, its color similar to one of charcoal, just like the festival itself.

He whipped around when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Ant breathed a sigh of relief when he realized it was a familiar face, in spite having betrayed by that same face once. He graciously accepted the golden apple and bit into it, his skin glowing faintly as he swallowed the lustrous fruit.

“Did you expect that this would happen?” Ant rasped, glancing at Punz’s armor. It was practically drenched in dust, but there was no real damage.

Punz shook his head as he helped Ant to his feet. He draped Ant’s arm across his shoulder. “Honestly? No.” His limbs cracked when he stood. “Bad sent a message for me that told me to stay armed. Guess it’s he who saw it coming out of all of us.”

The brunet paused, the sweet apple taste turning sour on his tongue. “Then why didn’t he wear armor himself?”

Ant didn’t understand Bad at all. Despite knowing the man for years, his thoughts were always a mystery, no matter how long and he knew him. Anytime he thought he finally understood the man’s motives, it was always swept under the rug as Bad presented more outlandish displays and provided absurd suggestions. It was clear that the demon was a mystery – and that was only scratching the surface of his being.

“I don’t know,” Punz admitted. He flinched as Ant stumbled, still unused to the uneven floor. It used to be beautiful marble, now cracked and demolished as if a bombshell had dropped. “Do you want to go back to your base?”

Ant looked around. His neck cracked as he bent it, eyes in search of his leader. People were recovering, rubbing their heads and helping each other up. He saw Fundy grouse as he caught Quackity from falling into a lake. He saw Ponk strangle a piece of wood as if he were more frustrated about his death than anyone else. Niki and Tubbo were nowhere to be seen – perhaps having fled with their comrades to Pogtopia.

“Where is he?” Did Bad survive? Ant was one of the first people to die, so he wouldn’t know who died after him. Did Bad go after Technoblade for revenge? That didn’t seem like him. If anything, he would be the first to rush towards them and asking how they were doing.

Punz grunted. “Where is who?”

“Bad.”

“Oh. He should be at the back. That’s where I saw him last.” Punz released Ant once he deemed the man was steady to be on his feet. “I’m sorry, by the way.”

Ant raised an eyebrow. He spun his shoulder to shake off stiffness. “About what?”

“About betraying you at the Battle of the Lake,” the blonde admitted. “I did it for the money. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Ant thought back to the incident. It was the first real conflict he’s been in ever since he moved into the Dream SMP, and it was also the first time where Dream and Technoblade set aside their differences to fight against them. If he wasn’t on the opposing side, he would be cheering for them. But alas, he was under Bad’s command, and their mission as to retrieve Sapnap’s fish, and that task failed which resulted in the majority of their belongings taken by Pogtopia. He didn’t know how Bad dealt with that defeat, especially when he was the only one that was left alive.

Tommy was the one that called for Dream to spare his life, too, as if this were to serve as a humiliation for their defeat. Bad never handled deaths well, even if they could respawn. He could very well be dealing with survivor’s guilt that they would never know about. BadBoyHalo, was, well— _bad_ at expressing his emotions clearly. It was a fact known by everyone around him, so whenever they see the man struggle with his words when someone defaced his statue, they left him alone and gave him a pat on the back. That was the only thing they could do without stepping on a landmine.

“I forgive you.” Ant pursed his lip. “I mean, I don’t hold grudges. I’m not sure if I can say the same for—”

His voice trailed off as his eyes caught something familiar on the floor. Beside him, Punz froze in his tracks, his eyes widening as they processed what they were seeing.

A body sprawled on the floor, charred and bloody, defying all rules as BadBoyHalo did not respawn.

_Skeppy whispered to ** ~~BadBoyHalo~~** : Bad, what happened to your name? Is everything okay at the festival? Why did Techno kill everyone?_

Ant scrambled towards his friend and immediately went for Bad’s chest. His clothes were burnt to ash, the dark clothing fragile and sooty from the fires. He set his hand on where his heart was supposed to be, expecting to feel a heartbeat—faint but alive, sure—but there was none. It was cold and empty, just like stone. When Ant lifted his hands, they were drenched in blood. Blood that oozed from the burnt wounds from Bad’s corpse.

He turned to his face almost out of instinct, but he wished he hadn’t. Instead of the burned skin that Ant expected to see, his skin was unnaturally pitch black, as if his skin had been replaced by black concrete. His eyes were half-lidded and his mouth slightly ajar, seemingly having died numbly and surrounded by loneliness and regrets. The most concerning thing would be the twin reed horns that grew from the sides of his head, like an abnormal growth that wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Fuck, god, fuck, what is happening?” Punz demanded, rummaging for a potion. “Why isn’t he respawning? Is he still alive?”

Ant stared wide-eyed at the blood on his hands. When someone respawns, their blood and remains would disappear along with their corpse. But Ant’s hands were very much still red, and Bad was very much still without a pulse.

“I don’t know,” Ant admitted, his voice turning a higher pitch. “I don’t _know_. I… I…” He took a sharp, shaky breath. Tears prickled at his eyes like needles. “I don’t know! He—he brought a totem with him. I saw him take it from his chest and put it into his pockets this morning. It should’ve brought him back to life!”

He shook Bad’s arm, hopping it would do some good and give him some sort of response – Bad looked like he’d been in a lot of pain before he died, and maybe he was still alive...? Perhaps just barely? Ant’s entire body trembled with fear as his heart burned with grief and confusion. The sweat that rolled down his back was cool but his head was flaring. He dug through Bad’s pockets with care and looked for the totem that he tucked away, or the golden shards that would remain after the totem was used. But he found no totem nor any pieces of gold in Bad’s pockets. The totem was never used nor was it on him. The only thing that was on his hands was Bad’s blood.

Ant retracted his hand, shaking with fear and disbelief. No. It wasn’t here. There weren’t any traces of the totem left. Bad’s other belongings like his shield, sword and axe was still on him, untouched. They were supposed to disappear after he respawned, but Bad wasn’t coming back to life and his items were proof of that. They were still on him, like a painful reminder that their owner would never return.

“The totem’s gone,” Ant wisped, disbelief coursing through his veins. “It’s gone. Someone took it. Someone _took_ it!” He raised his voice, but it was raspy and croaky, like he’s been crying for hours. Expression scrunched in a twisted form of anger and grief, drops of tears dripped from his eyes and onto his lap.

This wasn’t just some sick prank. This wasn’t a joke. This shouldn’t have happened in the first place. There has to be a mistake. He and Punz’s gazes met for a split second. The blond’s eyes, were too, brimmed with tears and widened with shock.

The first permadeath in decades just happened to be their friend.

_Skeppy whispered to ** ~~BadBoyHalo~~** : Dude, this isn’t funny anymore. ANSWER ME!!_

_Hours Ago – Before Technoblade ran from Manburg after committing genocide_

Techno breathed from his nose as he waved soot and heat from his face. Vaguely, he could hear shouting, presumably from Tommy from another building top, but he elected to ignore the child’s cries. He tucked the weapon away and admired the glory of his doings: a floor full of blood, fires and corpses, like a violent painting that would never come to be. Except that it was real, and he was the artist, who painted with blood and gunpowder instead of oil paints and a brush.

“Ah, the fresh smell of murder,” he declared with pride. “What a good way to start my day. Or night. It’s not like I have an actual sleep schedule.” He whirled towards the stage, the same place where he killed the president, the vice-president, and the secretary of Manburg. It was like his dream come true. An anarchy where the leaders’ heads were served to him on a silver platter—

Techno froze in his tracks.

“You’re alive.”

In the concrete box, where an unsightly execution occurred only moments ago, he expected blood and gore. Organs splattered on the insides and painting the yellow walls red. But there was no blood nor there was any gore. There was a teen, cowering at the insides, shielding himself from Technoblade as his eyes were widened with fear.

Tubbo’s voice cracked. “Tommy—Tommy said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

Techno leered forward and gripped the fence. “How are you alive?” he demanded, as if he were more exasperated than relieved to know that his ally survived his attack. “I saw you die. You took my rockets head on. Quackity and Schlatt weren’t even near me and _they_ died.”

The pink-haired man looked closer. In the dark, with the light of the setting sun, he could see flecks of gold dust on Tubbo’s suit and hair, especially noticeable with the slight afterglow on Tubbo’s skin. He looked healthy, perhaps even livelier than before he was killed.

“You had a totem on you,” Techno realized, realization seeping into his voice was the gears in his head turned. “You little rascal. You just don’t die, eh?”

“Bad—BadBoyHalo was the one that gave me that totem,” Tubbo confessed. “He gave it to me before I got up the stage.” He looked down. “Did he know this would happen? That Schlatt would ask you to kill me? If he hadn’t…” He didn’t finish his thoughts as he shuddered at the what-if.

A pearl landed behind Techno, and the sound of a pair of feet hitting the ground echoed in the empty stage. Techno whipped to see Tommy, seething with rage as he charged straight at Techno, his sword raised with a guttural war cry. He had seen the teen rage many times in the past, but it was never this intense. He was angry for his friend. He wanted revenge for a fallen brother. He aimed to strike Techno down on the very ground that he stood on.

“YOU KILLED TUBBO!” Tommy roared, swinging at the man. Techno leapt backwards in time, the blade barely brushing across his nose. He could feel the wind, pressure and weight that came from that one swing. Tommy was a good fighter in the making, but he always allowed his emotions to interfere with his actions.

Techno blocked the second swing with his axe. “Tommy, listen.”

Tommy snapped at him. “Shut the fuck up, Technoblade. You killed my friend. You killed Tubbo!” He brought his sword back without warning and lowered his stance. He turned the sword’s blade and aimed at Techno’s stomach.

Techno turned sideway as Tommy ran at him. Tommy lunged into air, his feet stumbling and losing his balance, grunting as the older grabbed him by the back of his shirt and dragged him towards the concrete box.

“Look at it,” Techno commanded, holding Tommy up by his collar. His feet dangled in the air. “Look at him, Tommy.”

Tommy turned his head away and refused to. “I’m not going to disrespect Tubbo’s remains, Technoblade!”

“Look at him.”

“Like hell!”

“For fuck’s sake, Tommy, I’m not fucking dead.” Tubbo leaned forward and jabbed Tommy’s cheek with a raised hand. “Just look at me. I’m fine. Techno did kill me, but I _lived_.”

Tommy’s eyes snapped open in pure fear. For a second, his brain stopped working as his jaw hung open, his eyes glued on the brunet that was his best friend. A thousand emotions worked their way up to his mind all at once: anger, disbelief, relief, surprise, grief, and happiness – all experienced and processed within a matter of seconds, each emotion barely given split seconds to act properly.

Techno dropped Tommy, which he barely landed on his feet before tackling Tubbo into a hug. He pounced through the fence, tears slipping from his eyes, as he threw his hands around the shorter teen with shaking arms.

“I thought I lost you,” Tommy muttered through a mess of exhaustion and distrust. “I really did, Tubbo.” His body shook as Tubbo returned the hug. “Don’t ever do that again.” The hug ended as Tommy helped Tubbo to his feet, and Tommy still glowered at Technoblade, as he was the source of his grief. Technoblade did not respond, as if he were used to the treatment.

Tommy then turned to the building top where he once stood from, his brows furrowing as he realized Wilbur already escaped – when the place has yet to gone to smithereens.

**_"Was it worth it?"_ **


End file.
